Snowy
by DarkestAngellic
Summary: It's snowing, and Chaos fully intends for seven year old Sephiroth to experience the fun that can be had with winter's lovely blanket of cold white (please note this is an alternate universe, it is not to be taken as being a companion piece to my other Chaos and Sephiroth stories).


_**Disclaimer: I own nothing from FFVII, not the settings, not the characters, not the names. Nothing. I own absolutely nothing. It is all the property of the wonderful Square Enix.**_

_**A/N: So this was supposed to be a drabble. It grew a tad longer than I was expecting. But anyway. Please keep in mind that this fic is based in an alternate universe to my current Chaos/Sephiroth stories. Any feedback is appreciated, folks.**_

* * *

"... It'll be snowing soon." The deep gravel tone breaks the peaceful quiet between the two occupants of the room. The youngest of the duo, only a seven year old boy, looks up from determinedly working to level up his small party of pokémon for their first Gym fight, glowing absinthe eyes finding the demonic man that's taken on being his guardian figure.

"... Snowing?"

"... You haven't seen snow, have you?"

"Not that I remember, no." His reply is as quiet as always, soft-spoken as he is, though there is a strong undercurrent of curiosity weaving through his tone. So much so that it prompts deadly fangs into view when Chaos grins.

"Tell you what. When it does start snowing, we'll go outside in it."

"Really?" And there's the excited spark in his eyes that Chaos had been hoping for, shy little smile curling his young companion's lips. There's surprise in his tone, though, surprise that the WEAPON isn't so fond of. A child shouldn't be surprised that there was an offer to venture outside. He keeps the dark expression from settling on his face - knowing full well that it was a look that unsettled Sephiroth - but the urge to hiss and spit and go on a sudden destructive spree is there.

_Damn you to the deepest pits of Hell, Hojo. Curse you for what you've kept from him for seven years!_

"I promise." He merely watches Sephiroth return to his game, guarded amber eyes settling back into gentle warmth while he does. It isn't often that he sees such an intense look of concentration on the boy's face, but he takes his game rather seriously. It's quite sweet, actually, that he does. Most kids turned into screaming little brats whenever they stumbled into an obstacle of some sort; not Sephiroth. He'd hum and hmm and take his time to come up with a few ideas, head tilting to the side while he did so, chin cupped in one of his petite hands with the console set safely in his lap. If it weren't for the fact he was much more mature than the normal seven year old, Chaos was damn sure he'd either be sticking his tongue out a little or biting on that stylus while he pondered on his next course of action.

Quite the different boy to the one he'd stumbled upon in the Nibelheim labs after breaking free of that mako tank. Back then he'd been pale-faced and far too thin in the flimsy excuse for grey pyjamas he'd been wearing; ill-fitting rags that had a pale shoulder exposed to the chill air. He'd been barefoot too, settled into a defensive stance rather than attacking Chaos outright with the katana clasped with expert ease in his small hand. Now, though... Now Sephiroth had some meat on his bones - a healthier weight for someone so young - and proper clothes to wear. Although he was currently determined to rob Chaos' wardrobe of any and every jumper he owned, apparently. Not that the WEAPON minded - so long as Sephiroth was comfortable and warm, he could wear whatever the hell he pleased in the winter months.

Chaos eventually closes his eyes again and settles back into the chair as though to take a nap. It's a pose he usually adopts when he has nothing else to do, quite content to merely settle down and listen to Sephiroth's antics. It was nice having the boy in his home and disrupting the quiet as only a child could... pleasant... something Chaos never would have dared imagine could actually happen given most children were terrified at the mere sight of his wings, never mind his scarred face and the fangs hidden behind careful lips. Lips that end up curling into a faint smile with the small sound of delight he's come to recognise as Sephiroth winning a battle and leveling up one of his pokémon in the process.

* * *

"Do I need to wear all of this?"

"Yes."

"Even the gloves?"

"Yes."

"But how will I know what snow feels like if I'm wearing gloves?"

"You can take them off for a short while, but put them back on when your hands get cold." Either that or Chaos would put them back on for him. Notably, given Hojo's meddling, there was slim chance of Sephiroth getting sick from being exposed to cold temperatures for too long, but he wasn't willing to take the risk, nor did he want the youngster getting uncomfortably cold. Hence the snow boots, the jumper, the padded parka, the gloves, hat and pulled up hood. The jeans he'd allowed Sephiroth to decide on himself, but everything else was to bundle him up against the chill... quite like what any mother would do with her child, no doubt. Of course if anyone were stupid enough to say that to his face... Chaos would happily disembowel them and stain the snow at their feet red with their blood... just a _tiny little detail_ to overlook, really. He was Sephiroth's guardian - it was a duty he'd willingly taken onto his own shoulders and he damn well wouldn't cut any corners when it came to the boy's health and his safety.

Hands - both flesh and clawed - settle over Sephiroth's eyes before the youngster can catch a glimpse of what the world looks like beyond Chaos' front door. He ignores the grumbled protests and nudges the boy forward, pleased that he's trusted to ensure there will be no tumbles or walking into obstacles. It is only when they're smack in the middle of the local park that he lowers his hands to clasp over Sephiroth's shoulders instead, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

"This, Sephiroth, is snow." The white currently settled over every horizontal surface in winter's beautiful blanket of chill. He'd deliberately waited for the snow to settle this much - there was _fun_ to be had when it was like this. Fun he fully intended to have the youngster experience. The demonic WEAPON drops down on his butt, content to wait for Sephiroth to take in the entire sight of the altered surroundings, grinning at the quiet mumble of awed delight before flopping back and fanning out his arms and legs, deliberately keeping his wings tucked in while he makes the angel. He isn't one to cheat - there was no fun otherwise.

"What are you doing?" Eyes open again to find Sephiroth watching him curiously, looking quite adorable with such a confused expression painted on his fine features.

"Making a snow angel."

"Making a what?"

"A snow angel. Look." He heaves himself up carefully so as not to disrupt the indent he's made, stepping clear of flattened snow and gesturing for Sephiroth to take a look, pointing out the head, body and wings for him.

"... 's not an angel." Rumbling laughter flows from his lips at the protest and he quickly swipes his claws around in an oval above where his head previously rested.

"It is now that there's a halo. You try, squirt." That earns him a miffed glare, to which he grins, plants his hands on Sephiroth's chest, and sends him sprawling into the snow. To his credit he doesn't laugh at the openly shocked expression, but he's sorely tempted to.

* * *

Countless snow angels, several impromptu snowball fights and many, many shoves later find the two of them laughing on their way back to the house they've both taken to calling home. Chaos is all but soaked, since his raised body temperature had the snow melting faster around him whenever Sephiroth had sent him ass over teakettle, dual-tone hair still a wild mess framing his face, tiny white flakes clinging stubbornly to the strands as though determined to win against the heat of his body. His young companion isn't so soaked given how wrapped up he is, though there are damp patches clear on both jeans and parka and Chaos wants him swapped out of them and into something warm and dry as soon as possible.

A sudden flurry of white in his vision and an impact of cold on his face promptly brings his attention back to the present just as Sephiroth bursts into fresh peals of laughter and takes off running as fast as his shorter legs can carry him.

"_Get back here_ you little brat!" Naturally, Chaos pursues. At a human pace, of course. There was no delight in catching his prey within three seconds, was there? Although... perhaps he'll grab Sephiroth at the door and dump him headfirst into a pile of snow in retaliation...


End file.
